“Do you mind me not telling you, sir?” he said. “Wyndham only wanted you to know about his part in it. I’ll tell you if you wish,” added he, “but I’d rather not if you do not mind.”
“You need not do so at present,” said the doctor, greatly to the captain’s relief, “but you had better send Wyndham to me.”
“Yes, sir,” said Riddell, turning to go, but lingering for one final word. “I hope, sir—you—that is, if you can—you will take a lenient view of it. Young Wyndham’s very steady now.”
“I must see Wyndham before I can decide,” said the doctor, “but you have acted rightly in the matter—quite rightly.”
The captain went to find Wyndham, hoping for the best, but decidedly anxious.
That young gentleman was engaged in the agonies of Euclid when the school messenger entered, and announced that the doctor wanted to see him at once. His face fell, and his heart beat fast as he heard the summons. It needed not much effort to guess what it all meant. Gilks and Silk had of course been up before the doctor, and the latter had carried out the threat of which Riddell had told him; and now he was summoned to hear his fate!
At the schoolhouse door he found Riddell waiting for him.
“Oh, Riddell, I say!” exclaimed he, in tones of misery, “I’ve to go to the doctor at once. Silk has told about me. I say, do come with me.”
“Silk hasn’t told about you at all,” said the captain; “I’ve reported you myself.”
“You!” cried Wyndham, in tones of mingled amazement and reproach; “oh, why?”